Saturday, January 14, 2012

Sights of DC.

Some views of the city:

White House


Jefferson Memorial


Washington Monument


Martin Luther King, Jr. Memorial


Lincoln Memorial


Capitol Building


National Museum of Air and Space


I sent this picture to my dear mother. This is me in front of the Capitol building.


It all has to do with that one incident last year where our work emails were down, during which time my dad emailed me, only to receive an automated cryptic response that the email had not gone through, upon which my mom proceeded to question if I really had a job. Anyway...so you see why I need to send her occasional reminders that I am, in fact, employed. These were her responses:

"I thought you were supposed to be training. What are you training for? A tourist?" and then, "Were you counting buildings?"

She's oh soooooo witty.

The story of a brand.

Ever wonder how a brand changes from this:


To this:

?

Please welcome the fairy tale story* you've all been craving to know - the unheard story of the P double u C brand change.

Once upon a time in a land far, far away, there lived Brand, held captive by an evil step mom. Brand longed for release and for her prince charming.

One day Prince Orange stumbled upon the castle where Brand was held. With the aid of his trusty steed Pink, Prince Orange defeated the dragon holding Brand captive and tricked the evil step mom into releasing Brand. Brand then turned into a lovely princess, adorned in red. The two fell in love, a union of orange, pink, and red, and lived happily ever after. The end.

*I know you're all thinking, "Dang, this is what this girl does in her spare time - make up stupid stories about some random thing that happened at her job." But fear not. I have been in training all week, learning how to converse, present, and, yes, write. This little gem of a production was courtesy of a required segment in our writing class. So now I can find a much better use for my spare time. Like unpacking. Or watching Bones. Or posting stupid tidbits about my life on here.

Thursday, December 22, 2011

Too many colors.

Steve Orange owns 100% of the stock of Purple Corp. and Fred Smith owns 100% of the stock of Red Corp. that, in turn, owns 100% of the stock of Blue Corp. Blue Corp. intends to acquire 100% of the stock of Purple Corp. from Steve in exchange for Red Corp. stock. Each of the following is a party to the reorganization as defined in §368, EXCEPT:

Purple

Orange

Red

Blue

Accountants are so clever :)

Tuesday, December 20, 2011

R.I.P. Indiana driver's license.


That’s right. I’m officially licensed to drive in California. I spent some precious moments at the DMV this morning, finally getting my California driver’s license after a year and a half of living here. As a side note, I also registered to vote and found out that my vision in my left eye is kind of terrible. I blame my occupation.

And the computer I stare at day after day.

But mostly what this day has brought me is a new sense of awareness to the road around me. After spending a good portion of the day yesterday reading the entire California driver’s manual cover to cover, I’ve developed a bit of snootiness on the roads. I can practically quote portions of the manual, issuing tacit citations left and right to my neighbors of the road. Boy, I hope this wears off soon.

Anyway, it does feel nice not needing to be afraid of the police anymore, lying to them about how lovely it is to “visit” California. So look out California – I’m here to stay. And look out drivers slash bicyclists slash pedestrians – I know what you’re doing wrong, and I will let you know. Silently. In my car.

Friday, July 15, 2011

Harry Potter.


That's what has happened. Call me a nerd all you want, but I started reading these books when I was 12 years old. That's HALF my life spent dreaming of adventures at Hogwarts, expectantly checking the mail for my acceptance letter (which probably got lost by one of those silly school owls), sorting myself into a house with no help from the Sorting Hat (I'd be a Ravenclaw - I'm fairly certain), practicing quidditch and spell recitations in my spare time, debating what form my patronus would take (I'm thinking a penguin - on its belly), referencing Voldemort in serious conversations as "He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named," and genuinely believing I was best friends with all the characters (the good ones at least). So you can see how this ending truly affects me. In all seriousness, though, I don't know if another series will ever captivate and consume me quite like Harry Potter could. I mean I practically grew up with this guy. Twelve years is a long time. So here's my tribute to J.K. and her beautifully crafted series of novels. And to a series of movies that never quite lived up to the wonder of the books but which nonetheless helped to bring the spirit of Harry Potter alive.

Countries.

I'm pretty sure Andrew texted me "Greek" on accident instead of his usual friendly "Geek." So naturally I went along. And along. And along.






In other news, I found Andrew's doppleganger.


I know you might all be thinking, "Really, Emma? Where's Andrew's lightning bolt scar?" Well, you're right - he doesn't have one. But for now, let's please just ignore that minor detail and notice they both are wearing glasses. Wow, I can't tell who is who.

Sunday, June 26, 2011

I love to see the temple.

I went there yesterday.


Another happening from yesterday:
I was enjoying the sunny day at the pool for a bit, when I noticed two little girls trying to enter through the gate. I hopped over to let them in and made my way back to the pool. One of the little girls followed and politely walked up to me to say thank you. She then paused for a moment before asking, "Are you a teenager?" After a slight chuckle and a negative response from me, she replied, "Oh. Well, you look like one." "Well, how old are you?" I asked. After stating that she was nine years old, with a beam on her face, I informed her that I was more than TWICE her age. To which she responded, "Yeah, you look older than me."
Moral of the story: So I definitely look older than nine, phew. But I also look like a teenager. I guess I'll accept.